It is What it is
by ilovecastiel18
Summary: Sort of an extension on the hug from TLD. I really wanted to explore what happened after the scene faded out. Very short, super sweet. Obviously not Johnlock, since Mary just died. Lots of angst and hurt/comfort. One-Shot. Rated K


**Disclaimer:** Sherlock, along with its characters, location, etc. are the property of BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. I do not own them, though I definitely wouldn't mind being on a first name basis with Benedict Cumberbatch ;)

 **Summary:** Sort of an extension on the hug from TLD. I really wanted to explore what happened after the scene faded out. Very short, super sweet. Obviously not Johnlock, since Mary just died. Lots of angst and hurt/comfort. One-Shot. Rated K+

 **A/N:** I love the hug. I love it so much. I love that Sherlock is finally turning into the man he was destined to be, rather than the cold, calculating man from the first couple seasons. I love how much he cares for John, and that's why I wanted to write about what happened after the scene faded. These two idiots stole a large part of my heart and my life. Enjoy, and leave a review if you liked it!

….

It is What it is

….

 _John stared at the fading image of his beloved wife, consumed with the guilt of what had happened. As he felt the tears start to fall from his eyes, he reached up with his left hand and covered the top half of his face, hoping to God that Sherlock wouldn't notice the flood of tears falling from his eyes._

 _As it was, Sherlock noticed everything. He slowly set his tea cup on the table and lifted himself from his chair, making his way over to his grieving best friend. He reached forward and placed his right hand on the back of John's neck, wrapping his left hand around John's bicep before pulling it up and resting it on his shoulder, over the scar left by the bullet that had hit him in the war._

" _It's okay…" Sherlock muttered, trying desperately to hold himself together. He could not afford to lose his composure – not now._

" _It's not okay…" John sobbed into Sherlock's shoulder. The detective could feel his shirt getting wet, and he didn't care. The only thing on his mind was being there for his best friend when he needed him. John meant everything to him, and he hated seeing him this way._

" _No, but it is what it is…" Sherlock replied. He bent his head closer to John's still trying to hold himself and his best friend together._

"Oh, God…" John sobbed. He took his hand away from his face and wrapped both arms around Sherlock's waist, burying his face even deeper into his best friend's chest.

Sherlock moved his left hand and wrapped his arm tightly around John shoulders, keeping his right hand on the back of his neck. He hated seeing his beloved blogger like this. Against his will a few tears fell from Sherlock's eyes and landed on John's hair.

"Oh, John…" Sherlock was starting to lose it. He sniffed and tightened his grip on the doctor, feeling as if holding John together would hold him together. He kept muttering "It is what it is" over and over, trying to make sense of all the tragedy that had been forced upon his best friend. He endured war, injury, loss, and loss again. For being such a good man, he had paid a terrible price. And Sherlock would do anything to make John happy again.

But for all his clever thought processes, Sherlock just stood there, holding his beloved blogger tightly and praying that they would make it through this.

Finally, after what seemed like ages of John sobbing into Sherlock's chest and the detective desperately trying to keep it together, John spoke.

"God, Sherlock, I'm so sorry…" he sobbed.

Sherlock was taken aback, but answered swiftly, still holding John tightly in his arms. "What for?"

"For blaming you…" John pulled back from the embrace, wiping at the tear tracks on his cheeks half-heartedly. Sherlock dropped his right hand from John's neck to his shoulder, and kept his eyes trained on John's. "It wasn't your fault…I shouldn't have blamed you. I…God I'm just so sorry. I put you through hell, all because I wanted to blame someone for…" John's voice broke, and a single tear fell from his eye.

"It's okay, John." Sherlock replied quickly. And he meant it.

"No, it's not, Sherlock. I never should have put the blame on you for this. I wanted to hate something, someone, for making me go through all of this, and you were the closest thing I had. I never should have blamed you. She chose to take that bullet for you, you couldn't have done anything about it. I'm so, so sorry." John choked out.

"John, listen to me." Sherlock used his free hand to cup John's cheek and force his gaze up to meet his. When he was sure that John was listening, he dropped that hand to John's other shoulder. "You were forced to endure the loss of your wife…" Sherlock's voice cracked a bit on the last word. "I'm not mad at you for putting the blame on me. I promised to protect you both, and she died. I'm just happy that we are okay again." He paused. "But, for what it's worth, I forgive you, John Hamish Watson. I could never stay mad at you for something like this. For anything at all, really. I'm just sorry I couldn't be there for you when you were grieving…"

Jon gave Sherlock a watery smile, and leaned back in to hug him again. Somehow, everything seemed better now. He would never be the same as he was before he lost Mary, but having Sherlock back made things much better. He wrapped his arms around his best friend's waist, catching the happy sigh that escaped the taller man's lips.

Sherlock, for what it was worth, was very happy. He hated seeing his best friend, his beloved blogger, hurting like this, and breaking down right in front of him, but he was happy that he was finally given the opportunity to be there for his friend. He hated having John mad at him, more than he had ever hated anything. He somehow felt that they would be closer after this. He was happy about that, just sad that it had come from something as horrible as Mary's death. He wrapped his arms around his doctor's shoulders and held on for all he was worth.

John may have had a life outside of 221B Baker Street, but to Sherlock, his blogger was his whole world.


End file.
